


93 percent stardust, with souls made of flame

by firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin



Series: Monsta X sunny summer fic bingo [7]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Epic Friendship, Eventual Romance, Family, M/M, Monsta X Bingo, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Suicide Attempt, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7880674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin/pseuds/firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are three things that Song Gunhee knows about his soulmate. First: they’re alone. Second: they’re hurting. Third ― and worst of all ―: they don’t think it’ll ever change; soulmate or not, they think they won’t ever have someone at their side. The words ‘<i>why do you even care? what do you want from me?</i>’ marked on his wrist seem to be mocking him.</p><p><b>alternatively:</b> Gunhee’s a hopeless romantic and Jooheon doesn’t believe in love at all</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a splash quite unnoticed (this was icarus drowning)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I have to say is:::::::: sOULMATE SÇALKDASKALSÇ~ ~~I smell angst coming from distance but tHE FUTURE IS BULLETPROOF THE AFTERMATH IS SECONDARY IT'S TIME TO ok I'm shutting up again~~
> 
> I really love the concept of soulmates, so that's probably going to be a mashup of feels and angst and fluff moments with lots of descriptions and romance later on and feels and feels and did I say feels ????
> 
> Be wary for the tags! I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing here, so TWs can be added at any time! (though I'm 99% sure I'll warn you beforehead and I'm 50% sure I won't change anything because the plot's almost whole in my head)
> 
> There's a bit of Gun/Hoseok, but it's just mentioned, so I didn't tag it lol  
> Also, updates will be slow. My tests have just started and I still have a few works from my bingo sheet to finish until the end of this month, so :C ~~I'll probably try to update weekly, like I'm doing with Half of me, but no promises~~
> 
> Hope you enjoy it <3  
>  ~~I should be studying biology but here am I, setting up my priorities~~

Gunhee starts thinking about his soulmate when he’s six. His teacher’s trying to explain to his class why the mark that will appear on their wrists when they turn twelve is so important ― why they exist, how they work, why it’s a need for them to believe in the words that soon will be on their skins forever.

He doesn’t know what’s the big deal. Gunhee doesn’t understand why Mrs. Park has dreamy eyes and sighs so much while talking. She notices him staring and smiles sweetly at him. Gunhee feels like he’s in trouble.

“Do you know the purpose of the mark, Song?” she asks, her tone almost kind, and Gunhee relaxes a little; she wouldn’t be so calm if she was angry with him.

“They’re, uh, for love, aren’t they, seonsaengnim¹?” he can hear someone giggling at his back. His ears burn in shame. “The – the words, I mean.”

“You’re not wrong.” Mrs. Park shakes her head, seeming pretty pleased with his answer. Gunhee feels relieved. “The love between a woman and a man is determined by the first word they’ll say to each other after the birthday; that’s how they know if it’s going to last.”

Then she starts a monologue about history and for how long some people have been trying to fight the system ― trying to run away from love, to run away from their soulmates. Mrs. Park seems unhappy about it, almost disgusted by the idea, and she tells them it’s something very wrong, that she believes there should be a law against people trying to be in a relationship with someone who’s not their soulmate.

Gunhee believes her ― there’s no reason for him not to do it, there’s no reason at all. He goes all the way home asking himself how he’d feel if his soulmate rejected him. If his teacher says that a soulmate is always about love, Gunhee can imagine it perfectly: she’ll be a girl very active, who will play everything at his side, who’ll let him be any superhero he wants to be when they play pretend, and who will follow him in all the adventures Gunhee can think about. He smiles, because inside his mind it sounds cool. Although he believes it’d be even cooler having a boy as his soulmate ― because then he’d have a friend, someone besides Mino who would always be willing to be with him ―, he remembers how Mrs. Park emphasized the whole point of the soulmate thing only working between boys and girls, not boys and boys or girls and girls. Gunhee gets sad with the thought.

It’s not that he doesn’t believe that girls can be cool too, but the girls he knows usually don’t like the kind of thing he and the other boys do, and thinking about needing to search for her ― or worse: not finding her at all ― causes him pain. It’d be easier to find a boy with the same taste as him, but then, again, Gunhee can’t have a boy as soulmate because he is a boy too.

He feels upset. What if his soulmate ends up not being all he wishes to a soulmate? Worse: what if _he_  ends up not being what his soulmate wanted him to be? What if she leaves him? What if she _hates_  him, or just not loves him enough to stay? Gunhee gets home with wide eyes and a heart beating way too fast to his own good, because he runs all the way just so he’ll have a little time with his mother and she’ll explain everything to him.

She, however, doesn’t seem very happy to find him screaming for her at the top of his lungs, worry written all over her face ― and even less when Gunhee starts asking her questions non-stop, wanting to know what he needs to do to make his soulmate want to stay with him, what she did when his father left, did his reason have something to do with the fact that he couldn’t love her and Gunhee enough to try and stay?

“Gunhee-ya.²” she puts a finger in front of his lips to make him shut up. Gunhee stares at her on the verge of tears, and the sadness in his mother’s eyes makes him want to cry even more. “It’s okay to be scared, dear, but you don’t need to worry about it for now, ok? Your soulmate’s going to love you no matter what, I’m sure.”

He sniffles.

“Even if I want to be Batman when we play and if I can’t tie my shoelaces the same way?”

“Even if you want to be Batman when you play and if you can’t tie your shoelaces the same way.” she promises, kneeling in front of him and opening her arms to hug him. Gunhee doesn’t think before hugging her back. “Love always finds a way, Gunhee-ya. They won’t leave you, ever.”

Gunhee nuzzles against her, searching for reassurance.

“But dad left.” he murmurs, his voice quiet. “Does it mean that he wasn’t your soulmate, mom?”

“It’s complicated, dear.” she smiles weakly, kissing his temples. “To be by your side doesn’t always mean to be with you. Love stays, even when the person where it comes from doesn’t, and there are various types of love. You’ll understand when your time comes, okay? Try not to worry too much about it.”

Gunhee considers what she said. Does it mean that he can have a boy as soulmate? Does it mean that his father loved both of them and for some reason couldn’t stay? But if his mother’s right, then his teacher’s not, and he can’t find a reason for any of them to be lying about it. Gunhee sniffles again and tries to brush it off, wiping a few tears that escaped. His mother watches him with loving eyes.

“But I miss him.”

Her smile’s a lot sadder this time, but she doesn’t cry ― she doesn’t even flinch.

“I miss him too, dear, I miss him too.”

* * *

 

Gunhee meets Hyunwoo when he’s nine.

His mother’s having a free day and, like she promised a few months ago, she’ll use her free time to go with him to the park. Gunhee goes there almost everyday after school, and, really, there’s not too much to do; the other kids are mean, the older ones claimed the benches and use them to smoke ― but, if his mother’s with him, he’ll try to make it seem like the best place ever, because she deserves it.

“We can go to the swings, mom, they’re almost always free.” he bounces on his feet, excited to finally have some time with her, and his mother smiles when she notices it. “And then I can show you the lake – it’s not that big, but it’s really cool, I swear! Then we can go buy ice cream with the money grandma gave me! And then –”

Gunhee notices he’s babbling non-stop and shuts up immediately, blushing. He murmurs a quiet ‘sorry’ under his breath and his mother laughs, ruffling his hair. Gunhee feels ashamed, but it’s good to see her so relaxed, so he might be doing something right.

“Why don’t you go and take our swings while I buy the ice cream, dear? It’ll give us more time to do whatever you want to do.”

“You’re the best, mom!” his cheeks are hurting from smiling too hard, but Gunhee couldn’t care less; she seems proud, she seems happy, and he wants her to stay that way forever.

His mother ruffles his hair one more time before heading to buy the ice cream, and Gunhee takes a moment to watch her go, still smiling. His mother’s the smartest person in the whole world, and no one will ever make him think otherwise.

Gunhee shakes his head and walks towards the swings. He’s content, the day’s beautiful, the sun is bright and ― there’s someone sitting in one of the swings that’s not broken. Gunhee stops dead in his tracks, his eyes wide, his mouth half open with surprise. For a moment or two he only stares, not able to believe that his good day with his mother will be ruined because someone took the place that was supposed to be hers.

He feels like crying. He doesn’t want to go back home without showing her the swings ― but, judging by the way the other kid holds the chains, Gunhee’ll need to think about something to have the swing free before he and his mother need to leave. He doesn’t want to fight or to be mean like the mean kids, so the only way to do it is by asking the stranger to use it.

Gunhee takes in a sharp breath and approaches, trying to be brave ― but all the bravery goes away as soon as he steps closer and the sound of his feet smashing dry leaves makes the other kid look at him. It’s a boy; he has funny cheeks and a split lip, and Gunhee doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who could stare like this one.

“I’m not going anywhere!” the boy practically screams at him. Gunhee’s eyes widen in fear and he immediately steps back. “I already said that!”

Gunhee doesn’t have any idea what he’s talking about, and the anger slipping from the stranger’s voice scares him. He’s not a shy person, not really, but he’s not used to the people from this city yet. In his neighbourhood everyone’s friendly and playful, but, the more he comes to the center of the city, the more he notices how most of the people aren’t like this; the more he notices that being friendly won’t leave him anywhere ― there’s nothing wrong with being respectful or anything like this, but, really, most of the people he knows out of his comfort zone won’t treat him very well if he can’t give them something in return.

But Gunhee did nothing wrong. He didn’t even have the chance to talk before the stranger got all angry at him. Gunhee doesn’t think it’s fair. He didn’t have a chance to defent himself or to explain why he’s here.

“I wasn’t going to ask you to.” he lies, crossing his arms to hid how much his hands are shaking, trying too hard not to pout. At least the other boy stops glaring, staring at Gunhee with a doubtful look.

“You’re saying that you’re not like the kids on the benches, then?” the kid narrows his eyes at him. “They said I couldn’t dance there because it’s theirs.”

Gunhee scrunches up his nose.

“They claimed it a few months ago. Sorry about your dance, though.” he takes the risk of approaching a little, sitting on the ground and looking at the other with interest. “Why did you need a bench to dance, anyway? Isn’t it, like, dangerous or something?”

The boy takes a moment to look properly at Gunhee, most of his defensive attitude gone now that he notices the younger one doesn’t want to fight with him for the swings.

“Not at all.” he shrugs. “I’m going to a competition next year and my mother promised that if I could do this awesome move she was teaching her class, she’d personally help me with my choreography. I can’t use her room, though, because her boss doesn’t like it, and I received a report for trying to do it in school.”

“Oh.” Gunhee blinks like he knows what the other’s talking about, but, honestly, he didn’t understand too much. He doubts a dance competition has anything to do with a music contest like the ones his father used to take him and his mother. “So, like, do you have an artistic name and all?”

“Not yet.” the other twists his lips in a way that makes Gunhee think about his mother when she’s worried about something. When the boy looks at him again, he seems a lot more relaxed. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Hyunwoo.”

“I –”

“Gunhee!”

His mother’s voice startles both him and Hyunwoo, and, by the time she arrives, he’s already up on his feet, watching her with confusion. She’s not holding the ice cream she said she was going to buy, and she has this look on her face ― the one she wears when she’s going to disappoint him and she knows it. Gunhee feels his chance of having a good day at her side slipping through his fingers.

“Dear.” she approaches him, her smile weak. “The hospital called. I – I’ll need to cover for a friend who’s sick.”

“But it’s your free day.” Gunhee feels a lump in his throat. “You promised.”

She gets this sad look on her face again, and he wants to cry. Gunhee doesn’t think it’s fair. He knows they need the money, he knows she wouldn’t leave him if she could stay ― because that’s how love works, he remembers ―, but then, again, they need her work. He looks away and sighs, his shoulders dropping. It’s not her fault, and he knows they can’t just keep going and pretend that nothing will change if she refuses to cover for this coworker, because, if she does, she’ll probably lose her job and they’ll starve until she finds another one.

Gunhee hates the fact that he doesn’t have enough age to work yet. He wants to help. He wants her to rest, to sleep and to eat properly ― he wants to be a good son, because she’s a good mother, and he knows she’s doing everything she can.

“You’ll come back ‘til midnight, then?” he tries to change the subject, but it doesn’t really matter, because she’s pressing her lips in a thin line and, usually, this means she doesn’t have any idea and probably will do a double shift. Gunhee feels like his stomach’s dropping to his feet.

“Probably.” she sighs and caresses his cheeks. Her fingers are warm, her hands soft, and Gunhee wants to hug her and never let her go. “I already called your grandmother, okay? She said you can stay here if you want, but she’ll need you home before afternoon because we ran out of food and she wants to go to the grocery before it gets dark.”

“Okay.” he mumbles, and receives a kiss in his forehead. “See you later, mom.”

She ruffles his hair once more, her eyes apologizing, and Gunhee smiles at her to show that he’s not mad ― sad, sure, but not mad. He knows she’d stay if she could, and that’s all he could ask for, that’s all he’d ever ask. Then, when she leaves, Gunhee takes in a sharp breath, trying to make his hands stop shaking, and turns to face Hyunwoo, who watches him carefully ― he doesn’t seem judgemental, though, and Gunhee tries to smile friendly.

“So, do you want to claim one bench to train or anything?”

Hyunwoo stares at him in awe, and, barely a second later, his face turns into a blank page.

“They’re bigger. And older. We’re outnumbered, you know that, don’t you?” before Gunhee can say anything in the matter, Hyunwoo shrugs again. This time, there’s something different in his eyes. “I think it’s better if we stay in the swings, at least they won’t bother us.”

Gunhee pouts, his arms crossed.

“You only think this way because you’re scared.”

“I’m not!”

“Then we should go.” he whines, pouting more agressively, approaching to push Hyunwoo’s shoulders. _“C’mon._ I want to see the awesome move.”

“Ugh.” the boy groans, standing. Hyunwoo’s taller than Gunhee thought he was, and that’s funny too, because his arms are thin and he doesn’t exactly seem the type of guy who dances. _“Fine._ Just don’t blame me later, okay? It was your idea!”

Gunhee’s excited smile is all Hyunwoo needs to know they’re going to be in a hell of a trouble.

*

More than one year later, Hyunwoo receives his words.

“I’m going to die _alone.”_ he complains, maybe for the millionth time since Gunhee arrived, his voice muffled, his head buried on his bed. “I’m going to meet my soulmate and then I won’t know they’re _them_  and they’ll leave me and I’ll live and die _alone.”_

Gunhee’s laying on the floor, staring at his best friend’s white ceiling, not knowing exactly whether to make fun of him or play the best buddy role. He decides for the latter ― there’ll be plenty of time to find a joke about it that it’ll make Hyunwoo laugh or, at least, stop mourning over a life he’ll probably never live because he’s just being overly dramatic.

“I’m –”

 _“Don’t_  say that!” the older boy moves so fast he almost falls off the bed, staring at Gunhee through half closed eyelids. He’d seem pretty scary if it wasn’t for the fact that not even five minutes ago he was talking about being old with twenty-seven cats and five dogs just so he won’t feel so, _so_  alone. “I’ll hear it enough on my life, okay?”

Gunhee shrugs, but Hyunwoo’s already burying his head on his pillow once more, mumbling something about a ‘horrible, horrible and lonely life’ and lines of ‘how I’ll know if they’re the one, and not just someone, like, tripping over my feet?’. Gunhee cringes.

Well, if playing the best buddy didn’t work...

“Hey, Hyunwoo hyung.”

The older groans to show he’s listening.

“Do you think they’ll, like, drop coffe all over your favorite shirt, like they do in the chessy movies? Or, like, you’d be all hurried because you’re late to a class on high school and then bam! They’re over you and your materials all over the floor, soulmate’s meeting on the hall. It’d be fun. I think you should make a film about it, I can even be the camera man!”

Hyunwoo tries and succeeds in throwing a pillow at Gunhee.

* * *

Gunhee’s twelve when he receives his words, just like everyone else ― but the similarities end here. Not even Hyunwoo seems to be able to find something to say, something that will make him stop feeling so sad, something that will mute the pain for a while. His mother sits at his side on the bed, she curls around him and sings quietly in a soft voice, rubbing his back, his hair, trying to comfort him.

His words are scarred, inflamed. It hurts to touch them, even when they’re treating the skin just like the doctor told them to, but it hurts even more to think about what his mark means. Gunhee doesn’t know what he did wrong. He doesn’t know why his soulmate is hurting, he doesn’t know anything about them. He doesn’t know how he’s going to fix it.

What he knows, though, it’s that they’re about his age ― all the doctors said it, over and over again, because his body wouldn’t be reacting so fiercely if they weren’t; something about the lines of ‘protection’ and ‘some events can provoke the kind of response your kid’s giving to the mark, but we can’t tell much because we’d need to find his soulmate to understand it properly, and, right now, none of us think he could handle it’.

He knows they’re hurting. He feels they’re lonely; it’s like an instinct, it’s like something just inside his gut, pleading for him to get out of his bed, to find his soulmate, to _do_ _something to stop the pain._ Gunhee shrinks further inside his mother’s embrace, welcoming her warmth and sighing, tracing the words over and over again, trying to fix them into his mind so he’ll never need to look at them again, not until he finds his soulmate.

_why do you even care? what do you want from me?_

Gunhee will find a way to change this.

He doesn’t know how ― but he will.

* * *

 “You did _what?”_

Hyunwoo cringes at the anger in Gunhee’s voice. He’s probably never seen his friend this mad since – well, since ever. Gunhee’s never been the type of guy to lose his temper easily, to get angry for anything. Hyunwoo can’t help but think that he fucked it up real bad this time; he knows Gunhee for at least six years by now, and the younger never, _ever_  got mad at him.

“I – uh, kissed Minhyuk. I think.”

“You _think?!”_ Gunhee throws his arms up. “What – _what the hell,_ Hyunwoo!”

“Look, stop freaking out, okay?” he finally crosses his arms, frowning upon the attitude of his best friend. He doesn’t know what’s happening ― he doesn’t know why Gunhee’s so furious ―, but he doesn’t like it. “It’s not the first time and it certainly won’t be the last. Just because a professor caught us doesn’t mean we’re going to stop.”

“He’s not your soulmate!” Gunhee’s eyebrows furrow together. “You weren’t even friends, for all I knew!”

Something about the comment hits a nerve. Hyunwoo looks at him with the same anger he had on the day they met ― Gunhee would be worried about what is about to come if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s so fucking mad at his best friend right now.

“How could you know? You can barely look further than your wrists, Gunhee!” he groans, rubbing at his face. “You’re so busy mourning over your soulmate that you don’t even notice what’s happening around you, and this has _nothing_ to do with me!”

Gunhee feels like Hyunwoo punched him. Sure, he uses his time to look at his words a lot, but that’s not – it’s not – he shouldn’t feel ashamed for it, and Hyunwoo doesn’t have the right to make him feel bad about the fact.

“Well, at least _I_  think about my soulmate! It’s not my fault you don’t care about who you’re going to hurt with all of your shit!”

“Shut up!” Hyunwoo finally looses it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!!”

 _“I_ don’t know what I’m talking about?! You’re being a selfish bastard, and _I_ don’t know what I’m talking about?!” Gunhee laughs dry, humorlessly. “Get a hold of yourself, Hyunwoo!”

“Get out of my house!”

Silence. They stare at each other, anger stressing both of them. Gunhee can’t believe what he’s hearing ― he just _can’t._ And, although he’s already starting to regret his own attitude, Hyunwoo can’t find the will to back off, murmuring through gritted teeth:

_“Go away.”_

Gunhee doesn’t need to be told twice.

*

Later on the same year, Gunhee has his first kiss with one of the girls in his class ― they skip class and hide behind the gym, holding hands, leaning into each other and making out like they have no time to waste, because, really, they don’t.

Gunhee tells Hyunwoo about it in the same day, but not out of the goodness in his heart, but because he can’t help the guilt that creeps inside him and makes him cry non-stop for at least one hour straight on the phone ― and, instead of judging him like Gunhee was kind of expecting him to do since they fought and started avoiding each other, Hyunwoo listens and, after calming him down a little, talks about it.

“It’s not that you don’t care and it’s not like you won’t love your soulmate and they won’t love you, Gunhee-ya. Love’s not just about being your first everything, okay? You don’t need to feel guilty, you did nothing wrong. It wasn’t good, that’s why you’re so sad? Or you just did it out of instinct, because you felt like it?”

“I – I don’t know, I –”

“That’s okay too.” Hyunwoo notices the panic rising in his friend’s voice, and is fast to cut it off, keeping his tone soft as a way to keep Gunhee focused on him. It seems to work, because the younger takes in a long breath, quiet for a moment. “Look, did someone ever tell you about love?”

“My, uh, my mom did.”

“And…?”

“It… It’s not possession or… Or touch. It’s – it’s something you feel. Something you know. You don’t – you don’t need to be with someone you love to, uh, to love them.”

Hyunwoo waits, but, when the only thing he hears on the other side of the line is Gunhee’s steady breath, he knows there’s nothing left to listen to.

“That’s not just it, Gunhee-ya. There – there are many ways to love people.” he scratches the back of his neck, feeling a little uneasy. Things would be better if he could talk personally to Gunhee, but, once it’s not possible because he’s _still_ grounded for the kissing thing, he’ll do what he can. “Like, uh, you know I love you, don’t you? As a friend and as brother. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone could deal with all of my shit until you showed up out of nowhere. Remember that? How you convinced me to try and claim a bench just so you could watch the _awesome move?”_

Gunhee laughs. It’s a weak, trembling laugh, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. Hyunwoo counts it as a victory, smiling to himself, and waits a moment or two, just so his friend can relax a little before he really gets to the point of the whole talk.

“And I love Minhyuk too.” he keeps talking before Gunhee can freak out about the information: “And loved Bora before him. And will love the one who’ll come after him, if even there’s someone. And it doesn’t change the fact that I’ll end up loving my soulmate.” Hyunwoo sighs. “You know why they call it soulmate?”

“Because they complete you?” Gunhee’s voice sounds confused, almost like a child waiting for approval.

“No. That’s a lie people tell you in elementary school.” Hyunwoo cringes, remembering the time he believed it. “You’re already whole, you don’t need anybody else, Gunhee-ya.”

“But then – then why…?”

“Ok, so, that’s going to sound a little odd, but hear me with attention, right?” the older waits until the other answers a weak ‘fine’ to talk again. “Remember in your chemistry classes, when your seonsaengnim told you about reactions? That some chemicals need to be moved with care, that some chemical reactions have specific ways to occur, or then everything gets messed up? Think of people as those chemicals. Some hit off immediately, and some can’t get near each other without putting something into flames. And that’s exactly how people work. That’s how soulmates work. We’re all just chemicals waiting to combust, and we need the right combination for it.”

Gunhee keeps silent, like he’s trying to process what’s being told to him.

“Your love for your soulmate doesn’t need to necessarily mean that you’re going to kiss them, or have sex with them, kid. It doesn’t even need to mean that you’re going to like them, hell, for all I know. It _can be,_ but _it doesn’t need_  to be. People like to think it is needed because they want a possession, not a person, and they make you believe that that’s how love works.” Hyunwoon’s starting to worry about the silence of his best friend. The only thing he can hear is his raspy breath, and it’s starting to get on his nerves. “You got the thing about chemicals, Gunhee-ya? There’s no specific one, just the ones you’ll be able to live and the ones you won’t be able to get near. Your soulmate is just, like, the one with the bigger rate of hits.”

Hyunwoo shuts up. Gunhee takes in a sharp breath and, when the older thinks he’s going to hear an explanation about this outburst, or even a comment about how he’s a strange guy, all he listens to is a laugh.

“Wow.” Gunhee’s smile practically _pours out_ of the phone. “Just – wow. And here I was, thinking that you got bigger grades in chemistry because Minhyuk did all of your homework.”

Hyunwoo’s face heats up.

“Shut up! I do my own homework, okay?!”

Gunhee laughs again.

“Sure, sure.”

“I’ll hit you.” Hyunwoo threatens.

“Not even in your dreams.” the younger scoffs. “You love me, hyung, you said so.”

Hyunwoo rolls his eyes, but, honestly, he can’t argue with that ― it’s all his own fault, for trying to make things better to his best friend and ending up spilling his guts out. When Gunhee takes another breath, however, he knows that whatever the younger’s going to talk, he’s being serious about it.

“Thank you.”

Hyunwoo blinks, caught off guard by the sincerity in Gunhee’s voice. Then, slowly, the tension leaves his shoulders, relief flooding his body. He knows everything’s going to be okay ― he’ll make sure of that.

“Don’t spread it, kid.”

They never fight on the subject again.

* * *

It’s when Hyunwoo’s nineteen that things change again.

Gunhee wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing savagely. He whines, rolls on his bed and tries to bury his head further on the pillow. It doesn’t work to muffle the sound, and he ends up searching for the phone ― because, honestly, he doesn’t want it to wake up his mother or his grandmother; the only thing he _wants_ is to answer it, tell the other people to call him again at a _human-like_  hour and go back to sleep.

Of course that it doesn’t work like this.

“I found him.”

“What?”

 _“Him,_ Gunhee, I found him!”

“Hyunwoo hyung, you’ll need to be more specific. It’s, like –” Gunhee rubs his eyes and tries to focus his vision on the nightstand, trying to discern the red numbers that shine in the clock. “– four in the morning. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He can hear the older one breathing irregularly on the other side, almost panicking, and the lack of an immediate answer makes him sit, suddenly alert, all the sleepiness gone.

“Hyunwoo, what happened?”

“I – my _soulmate.”_ his voice cracks, desperate, and Gunhee’s stomach drops. _“I found him.”_

Oh. Well.

Shit.

 

 

“Hyunwoo hyung, you’re not making any sense.”

It’s been at least two hours since Hyunwoo called him, and Gunhee didn’t find a way to make him say proper sentences yet. All his friend seems able to murmur is no-sense about how he was so excited to his first competition out of the country, how his mother was proud, how he was going to ask Minhyuk to be his boyfriend when he came back ― with flowers, rings and all, he had _everything_  planned ―, and how his soulmate tripped over his feet _just like Hyunwoo always thought he would_  and how this is all so crazy and unfair.

“I – I’m sorry.” Hyunwoo takes in a calming breath, but his voice’s still weak. “I’m just – god, that’s so messed up.”

“I know, I know.” Gunhee reassures him in a soft tone, and looks over the window, to the light blue sky, feeling stupidly exhausted. He still has tests to do in school, crap, and it’ll be all Hyunwoo’s fault if he fails all of them for lack of sleep ― but Gunhee can’t leave him now, not when his best friend’s on the verge of a breakdown. “Can you explain again how it happened, please? I didn’t get it the first time.”

“Ugh.” Hyunwoo groans, making this suffering noise that Gunhee knows that means he’s rubbing his face and scratching his neck, trying to hide his discomfort or, at least, choke it down a little. “Ok, I – ok. I was going to this place, uh, South Boston or anything like this, because Minhyuk said he wanted to go one day, you know? And I wanted to get pictures for him while he can’t.”

Gunhee rolls his eyes, but he’s feeling fond of his friend. He knows Hyunwoo really wants to make everything he can for the people he love ― even the most no-sense ones, like taking a bunch of pictures of a place just to show to him soon-to-be boyfriend because he knows Minhyuk would appreciate it. It’s kind of cute in a totally gross way.

“It was fun and, like, it was really beautiful. Minhyuk would – he would love it.” Hyunwoo’s voice falters again, and Gunhee wants nothing but to hit his head on the table. How the hell he’s supposed to help? He knows nothing about loving someone ― romantically, at least; he knows it’s old-fashioned, but he really wants his soulmate to be his only romantic relationship in life, even if it’s not a touchy one, even if it’ll be one-sided. “He just – he tripped over my feet when I was taking a picture of these old houses and – he almost broke my phone. He only – he couldn’t stop apologizing.”

Gunhee feels a pang on his chest. He knows how much Minhyuk means to his best friend ― but he knows, too, that Hyunwoo always wanted to meet his soulmate. It may be a little hypocritical, since the older always said a love doesn’t exclude another and right now he’s almost having a breakdown over knowing his supposed ‘choosen one’, but Gunhee doesn’t feel like he should talk about it. Hyunwoo knows exactly how he feels, how he sees the world, and the catch is: he doesn’t have _any idea_ of what his soulmate thinks about it.

Nobody wants to be in bad terms with their soulmate. Nobody.

“I didn’t get it at first, you know how I started to deal with this, so I said it was fine, you know? I said he didn’t need to apologize, that it was okay, that it wasn’t his fault, that we were both distracted and shit. And he just – _he stared._ He kept staring, pale like he’d seen a ghost. And I – I got it.” Hyunwoo takes in a sharp breath. The line goes silent for a second. “I don’t know how, but I got it.”

“And then?”

“Then what? Then I ran.”

Gunhee hits his head on the table, groaning.

“You did _what?”_

“I totally freaked out, okay?” Hyunwoo turns defensive, and Gunhee knows exactly how this is going to end if he doesn’t back off on his attitude. “I didn’t know what to do! And he seemed, like, fourteen at beast. Maybe fifteen. It’s, like, four or five years of differente, _at minimum._ What did you wanted me to do?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Gunhee sighs, watching when his mother appears in the kitchen, waving his head in a silent ‘good morning’ and trying to ignore her eyes widening in surprise ― he must seem a zombie right now. “I really am.”

Hyunwoo keeps quiet for a moment, trying to calm himself down ― and it’s enough time for Gunhee’s mother to kiss his hair in a comforting greeting and to go make more coffee for both of them.

“That’s just – it’s so fucked up, you know? I just wanted to – part of me wanted to talk to him and know him but I just – I kept thinking about Minhyuk and the ring I already bought and I couldn’t – I didn’t want to disappoint him.” suddenly, a thought seems to occur for Hyunwoo, and he whines. “He’ll have my head in a silver plate when I come back, won’t he?”

Gunhee can’t help the tiny smile that creeps into his face. Minhyuk always said that if he knew that Hyunwoo rejected his soulmate before even giving them a chance to know each other ― with or without a reason ―, he’d make _damn sure_  that the older was going to regret it. And god knows how Minhyuk can be scary when he wants to be.

“Don’t be so pessimist, hyung. You have time. Find him again. Talk to him. Explain how you feel and why you ran.”

“And what do I do when we talk? Tell him I have a boyfriend and I don’t plan on ditching him for a fourteen-year-old?” Hyunwoo doesn’t give Gunhee a chance to scold him for the attitude. “I don’t want to be an ass, Gunhee-ya, I really don’t, but I don’t want to leave Minhyuk behind either. What do I do if he doesn’t forgive me for not waiting for him? What if he still believes the whole thing about a soulmate being your possession? I don’t think I could – I don’t think I could take it.”

Gunhee sighs.

“Shut up.” although he’s being rude, there’s no anger in his voice. “That’s the thing you told me about soulmates, isn’t it? That we’re all just chemicals reacting with each other, soulmates are not just about romantic love and everything? Stop freaking out and go talk to him, Hyunwoo. It’ll be okay.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if we talk, and I explain, and it doesn’t take us anywhere?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Both of them know Gunhee’s right.

Hyunwoo promises him he will.

 

 

Hyunwoo was right since the start of it all with the soulmate thing, the lucky bastard.

Lim Changkyun didn’t need a relationship like most of people thought about having with their soulmates, he wasn’t interested in and didn’t want one ― the love he was expecting to find didn’t have anything to do with touches further than long hugs and cuddle sessions, didn’t have anything to do with feelings that didn’t involve excitement to share good news, the comfort to have someone to run to when things got bad or the intimacy of having someone to confess everything to.

Minhyuk got the lover ― Changkyun got the brother.

Hyunwoo _glows_ the next time his best friend sees him.

And Gunhee’s happy for them.

* * *

Gunhee’s twenty when he decides to go out on a date for the first time.

Kwangji’s great, he’s funny and seems to know exactly what to say all the time.

They don’t last a month together.

It’s not that Gunhee doesn’t like him, and it’s not that Kwangji’s not one of the best people in the world ― he just feels _off._ Gunhee feels like something’s missing, he feels like he’s doing something _wrong._ And he feels like he’s lying, like he’s cheating, and so he tells, he spills his guts out because _he can’t do that, sorry, it’s just too much for him and he can’t._

“I understand.” Kwangji promises, always smiling, but his eyes are sad, his hands closed and shaking. “Don’t be sorry, Gun-ah. It’s not your fault.”

But it is.

It’s his fault because he’s not trying, it’s his fault because he’s still locked inside his old beliefs, the idea that he can’t love someone whose first words aren’t on his wrists. It’s his fault because he knew it wouldn’t end well and even then he insisted, selfishly pretending that he didn’t notice the way the older looks at him, the way he holds him and touches him and _spoils_ him.

Gunhee already knew that he wasn’t the one whose heart was going to be broken and he did it anyway ― and he should tell that.

“I don’t blame you.” Kwangji cuts him off before Gunhee has the chance to say anything. “Just… Promise me you’ll call? Or… Or promise me you won’t deny my calls? Promise me we’ll keep being friends? I don’t – I don’t want to lose you.”

There’s a lump in Gunhee’s throat, but he nods and gulps, his mouth dry, his eyes watering.

“I promise.”

But that’s a lie.

Both of them are lying.

Gunhee never calls ― and neither does Kwangji.

 

 

Jaehee is an accidental attempt.

She’s smart, she’s smiling and she’s a lot competitive.

They barely survive a week.

“How can you do this to me?!” her first reaction’s so fast, so unpredictable that Gunhee barely has time to avoid the vase being throw into his direction. “Who do you think you are?!”

But he didn’t make the same mistakes with her. He didn’t promise her anything ― nor love, nor a relationship. Gunhee didn’t think not even for a moment about doing with her the same he has done with Kwangji; he tried his best to make sure they were both on the same tune, he almost thought they did. And he was wrong. Oh, god, he was wrong.

“I hope you never find her. I hope you live your whole life without knowing her, without seeing her.” Jaehee’s words are cruel, and her voice’s icy as steel, but her face’s red from shame and her eyes are puffy from crying, and Gunhee can’t find the will to feel angry with her. “I hope that, whoever she is, if you ever _find_  her, she _hates_ you.”

“I’m sorry.” Gunhee murmurs, and she slaps him in the face. Hard. It stings. “I’m sorry, Jaehee, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to _hurt._ I want you to be so broken no one will ever be able to look at you again – no one will ever be able to love you. You’re already broken, I want it to be irreparable.”

Jaehee leaves him with a bruised cheek and a slow bleeding heart.

Deep inside, Gunhee almost believes her.

 

 

“I don’t want a lover.” Gunhee murmurs, suddenly, against Hoseok’s lips. But his hands are on his hips and his fingers brush his skin and he wants to touch and he wants to mark and he wants to forget everything and just _drown._ “I’m sorry, I don’t – I don’t want a boyfriend.”

Hoseok’s laugh and presses against his neck, and he’s warm, he’s breathless, but there’s something soft in the way he pinches Gunhee’s sides playfully and sucks his skin between his teeth, leaving him whimpering, shivering, silently begging for more.

“Neither do I.” he promises, kissing him once more, without a room for argument. “Neither do I, Gunhee, I swear.”

Gunhee shouldn’t ― given his historic of poor life choices ―, but he believes him.

They don’t spend another night together, they don’t talk about it, they don’t even try. No one but Hyunwoo knows, and they don’t feel the need to share with anyone else.

Hoseok gains a new friend ― Gunhee gains a new confident.

* * *

“Honestly, guys, why do I even hang out with you?”

Hyunwoo laughs at Gunhee’s half-asked half-whined question. It must be at least one in the morning, it’s still winter, and they’re taking a subway to the middle of nowhere just so he can take a picture of the city from Seonyudo Bridge for Changkyun. Minhyuk’s at Hyunwoo’s side, laying against him, a soft smile on his face, and Hoseok’s sitting right behind Gunhee. He doesn’t have any idea how all four of them are together in such a horrible hour, but he certainly knows that it’s all Hyunwoo’s fault ― he loves Changkyun so much it’s almost gross, he’d go to the moon and back for the guy, and Minhyuk doesn’t really help to control him and his instincts insisting that he must spoil their maknae.

“You could at least wait for a good hour, Shownu.” Gunhee complains again, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, the bridge’s not going to run away screaming bloody murder, there’ll be plenty of time to take pictures.”

“Nope.” Hyunwoo shakes his head stubbornly. “Today’s his birthday. A long time ago he asked me for a picture of the city lights, I want to give it to him. Or make a video, I don’t know.”

“You mean, _another_  one, right? With the other thousand photos and videos you already did.” Hoseok seems to share Gunhee’s mind, but he’s having a funny time making the older one blush. “I don’t even know how he still has somewhere to put all of this.”

“It’s not his fault.” Minhyuk enters the argument in his boyfriend’s defense, and receives a kiss on the cheek for it. “Changkyun’s a good guy, he deserves only the better.”

“I protest. Just because I said I was going to be the camera man for the movie of your life doesn’t mean I actually wanted it, Hyunwoo!”

Gunhee’s being serious ― or, at least, as serious as he can when he’s almost dozing off on his seat ―, but the more he talks, the more the others laugh. Well, he thinks, when they all get mugged and end up needing to walk back home, he’ll make sure to force someone to carry him, because _he said it would happen_ and no one listened.

They still need to take a twenty-minute ride of bus from the Dangsan Station and walk for more five minutes to finally find the bridge, and, by this time, Gunhee’s already sulking, hands deep on his pockets. It’s dark, it’s cold and there’s still snow out there, he can barely feel his feet anymore, and all because he can’t let his friends and their sorry asses alone when they’re doing crazy shit like this.

“Stop pouting.” Hyunwoo elbows him friendly, and the smile on his eyes is almost enough to make Gunhee feel better. Almost.

“You owe me your soul.” the younger mumbles, not entirely satisfied, watching their friends walking in front of them, playfully kicking snow into each other. “You, your boyfriend and your soulmate. If it wasn’t for my awesome camera skills you’d all be lost!”

Hyunwoo opens his mouth to answer him ― probably to joke about it or to mock him for being such a mother hen for them ―, and, between the moment Gunhee stops watching their friends and looks at him to see if he’ll need to elbow him back or not, they end up bumping in Hoseok and Minhyuk ― who stopped all of a sudden ―, almost tripping over each other and falling.

The older curses under his breath and Gunhee rubs his eyes, confused about the reason why they’re all stopped. Maybe it’s because they finaly noticed how crazy all of this sounds, maybe it’s because they’re going to get mugged, maybe because they’re just messing with him. He frowns and turns to Hyunwoo, ready to say he gives up and will go back home, alone or not, when he notices how wide are his best friend’s eyes.

“Shownu.” Minhyuk’s voice is barely above a whisper, and, even then, Gunhee can notice the panic rising. Hoseok immediately holds Minhyuk’s shoulders, knowing his knees are about to give up. “What – what should we –”

Gunhee doesn’t hear the rest, his eyes searching for whatever that could’ve let his friends so troubled. There’s someone on the bridge ― there’s someone above the _handrail_  of the bridge, back to the city, face turned to the moon on the other side. Gunhee’s voice dies on his throat, all the sleepiness and complaints buried under the sudden terror that crosses his chest, cold like the wind that seems to be burning his face.

“Stay here.” Hyunwoo looks at them, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his hands closed into fists, his features suddenly serious. “I’ll be right back.”

Like hell that Gunhee will let his friend go alone into something like this. He gives him a hard look, and Hyunwoo stares at him for a second before, slowly, nodding. Together, they let Minhyuk with Hoseok, walking towards the strange in a low pace.

Gunhee feels tense, pain irradiating from his shoulders, a strange sensation inside his chest, and, by Hyunwoo’s posture, he knows how much his friend identifies with him. They’ve never faced anything like this ― hearing things on TV or seeing them in the internet makes it seem superficial, smothering the real feeling of facing it. He doesn’t want to lie and pretend that it doesn’t terrifies him, but he doesn’t think that showing how much it affects him will help it.

The stranger notices them approaching when there’s almost a six feet distance from them. It’s easier to see him now, under the moonlight, to discerne his chubby cheeks and black, _thin_  hoodie. He furrows his eyebrows together when he notices the small crowd watching him, and his shoulders tense a little in an almost unnoticeable manner. Hyunwoo practically stops breathing, and Gunhee understands the feeling ― what he doesn’t understand and probably won’t ever understand, however, is how the older one finds bravery to talk with the other.

“What are you doing up there?”

The stranger tilts his head to the side, his dark hair curling softly around his cheekbones and ears, and Gunhee’s stomach drops stupidly fast in a completely unexpected way ― he curses under his breath. _Damn._ He’s _gorgeous._ The stranger doesn’t seem to notice Gunhee staring at him, however, because his eyes are fixed on Hyunwoo.

“What are _you_ doing down there?”

“It’s dangerous to walk on the handrail.” the older ignores his question, but his voice’s not judgemental, and Gunhee knows he’s not rubbing his neck or making any move just so he won’t startle the boy. One wrong move and they’ll all be lost. “The river’s frozen. If you fall, you’ll probably die. Even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be in a pleasant temperature, and you would get hypothermia before you could get out.”

The stranger doesn’t blink, he barely even moves. When the wind blows, however, Gunhee notices the way he takes a deep breath, shivering slightly. He doesn’t think it’s healthy to stay out in the cold ― and god knows for how long the boy’s here, staring at the moon, taking the risk of being too numb to notice he’s slipping and falling. They’re running against time, and it scares him.

“At this height, if I fall, I’ll probably break an arm, or a leg, or have a concussion. Even if I didn’t break any bone, I’d drown anyway. Why does it matter for you?”

The lack of emotion in his voice seems to caught Hyunwoo off guard, and Gunhee decides he’ll give it a try. He pinches his best friend on his side, careful not to startle him, and shakes his head when the older looks at him. Hyunwoo seems confused, until Gunhee takes a step closer to the stranger, finally receiving his full attention.

The boy seems to be a bit annoyed, squinting his eyes in distrust.

“My name is Song Gunhee.” Gunhee starts, and his hands feel clammy, his chest heavy. “My – my friends call me Gun. He’s my best friend. His name’s Hyunwoo. Can you – can you _please_  come down? We don’t – I don’t want you to fall.”

He doesn’t know why he changed the phrase. He doesn’t know why he’s pleading. Hyunwoo’s look burns on his back. Gunhee wants to back off and run, and he doesn’t have any idea _why._ It almost hurts to breath. And he wants it to stop.

The stranger’s eyes fill with anger and something more ― something he doesn’t understand.

“Why do you even care?”

Gunhee’s eyes widen, his body suddenly frozen. The world feels numb and all the sense is lost.  _Don’t say that,_ he pleads inside his mind, panic rising alarmingly fast to his throat, _Please, just – don’t say that. Don’t._

“What do you want from me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹Seonsaengnim is, like, the romanization of the word "teacher" in korean. I'd like to point out that I've made a research about how teachers call their students in class, but it made me even more confused about how Gunhee's teacher would call him. (so I decided to put his last name)
> 
> ² Gunhee-ya/Gun-ah. It's basically the same term of endearment, but it changes depending on the last letter of the (nick)name.
> 
> ³ I was going to make Gunhee call his father appa, his mother eomma and his grandmother halmeoni, BUT I changed my mind, idk why. ~~lies, it's all about 'eomma', I'm not sure if it's the right romanization of the word, because I've seen it being written like "uhnma" too SOMEBODY HELP ME~~ Maybe I'll change it again later and edit it.
> 
> Any question/request/desire to talk about anything, you can contact me here, [ tumblr](http://firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin.tumblr.com/), [ twitter](https://twitter.com/notmadetobeheld) or [ curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/notmadetobeheld) \o \o


	2. the gentleness below and the wildness above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That night, he dreams of sad eyes and dark curly hair and a laugh he’s never heard before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~a few years later...~  
> I hope there's still someone out there lol it took time, but I'm back \o ~~and I don't plan on being so late anymore, but, hey, you never know~~
> 
> Just remember: everything will eventually make sense. Like. _Everything._ I promise. Just be patient and you'll see it :3  
>  I hope you like it \O
> 
> also, that's a total roller coaster, be careful

Gunhee’s mind goes blank.

The only sound inside his ears is the desperate rhythm of his own heart, blood leaving his face, despair rushing through his veins. It feels suffocating, overwhelming, and almost like he’s about to burst into flames. Gunhee’s eyes are wide open, focused in the stranger and the stranger only, and his lungs burn with the need to breath. There’s a lump in his throat ― he feels like crying.

 _That’s what everything was all about?_ Panic crawls inside his guts, and it takes more than just a minute or two for Gunhee to regain control of his tongue.

“My name is Song Gunhee.” he blurts out again, his voice rougher, weaker than before. “My – my friends call me Gun.”

The stranger blinks. Hyunwoo’s suddenly quiet.

“I know. I’ve heard it the first time.”

Gunhee takes in a sharp breath, cold air hurting his insides. His hands are shaking and he wants nothing but run away from here as fast as he can, despair swirling on his chest, curling around his heart and squeezing; he can already feel tears burning in his eyes. It feels wrong. It shouldn’t be like that, it shouldn’t _feel_ like that. It’s the first time he hears someone saying this words to him ― the _first words_ of someone to him, his _soulmate’s words_ , carved on his wrist, marked on his body forever.

It’s the first time and _he’s about to lose him._

“Why do you care?” the question is supposed to be harsh, but, to Gunhee’s ears, it sounds tired ― tired, _lonely_ ―, and it _hurts._ “What do you want, _Gun?”_

The tone hits him like a wall. Gunhee resists the urge to take a step back, to turn over and run, all the air suddenly gone from his lungs, regret and sorrow threatening to swallow him whole. He didn’t want it to be like that. He didn’t ― he never thought it’d be like that. He barely knows him, and the other doesn’t seem to be the slightest affected by the situation, and Gunhee feels like it’s all _his fault._ His fault for he could’ve done something, for he should’ve tried to find him, to help him, to be at his side.

Gunhee feels like crying ― warm, desperate tears welling up to his eyes.

“I just – please, come down. I won’t do anything, I promise. Just – please, just come down.”

He doesn’t feel above pleading. He doesn’t feel anything but panic at all. For a moment, it almost seems like the boy didn’t hear him, but then ― then he reaches towards Gunhee, his features softening even though his eyes are still wary. At first, Gunhee doesn’t even react, only staring at him. The other blinks slowly.

“Help me to come down.” he half asks, half demands, his voice low as if he’s not sure about what he’s saying at all.

Gunhee doesn’t waste any time thinking or deliberating about it. He approaches with shaky legs and a heart beating as fast as hummingbird’s wings, and takes the boy’s hand between his. It’s cold, the tip of his fingers all blue and purple, and Gunhee barely breathes until the other actually comes down, the only sound in his head being the constant buzz of despair, his thoughts drowning, his heart hammering against his ribcage almost painfully.

He doesn’t think ― he _can’t_ think ― before wrapping his arms around the other boy’s shoulders, engulfing him in a bone-crushing hug. At first, he seems startled, almost like he’s about to push him away, but then ― an instant later ― he slumps against Gunhee’s chest, his knees giving in, his hands shooting up to hold him back.

Gunhee can’t even start to explain the swirl of overwhelming emotions choking him up and making him shake all over. His body’s a mess, his head is even worse, tears running down his cheeks without the slightest struggle. And the boy in his arms sighs, nuzzling against his neck, his fingers curled up around his shoulders.

“You’re warm, Song Gunhee.” he states, as if he’s talking about the weather.

Gunhee laughs ― a bit histerically, sure, and kind of sobbing all the while, but who can blame him for it? ― and presses his chin against the boy’s hair, barely able to stop shaking. Somewhere in the back of his mind Gunhee remembers that  Hyunwoo and the other guys are still watching ― and probably trying to understand what the fuck is going on ―, but he can’t bring himself to care, not now.

“What – what’s your – how do I call you?” Gunhee’s words are stuttered, weak, his voice failing him.

He wants to tangle his fingers on the other’s hair, he wants to caress his back, to kiss his cheeks, to wrap himself around him and never _ever_ let go. It’s so overwhelming and so confusing ― Gunhee can barely breath under the pressure on his chest, but his heart’s doing a funny thing, as if it’s about to burst out flying.

“Jooheon.” the boy ― the shaky, pale boy ― answers quietly, almost too quietly to be heard. “My name’s Lee Jooheon.”

Jooheon, Gunhee tastes the word inside his mouth. Jooheon. J-o-o-h-e-o-n. He lets the letters spill through his mind, through his lips and heart until he’s trembling, until the realization overwhelms all the other feelings, melting the despair into something warm inside his chest, beating softly, gently, alive.

 _Jooheon,_ he repeats, over and over again, until it’s carved into his mind, his thoughts, his heart. _Jooheon_ ― and even his soul gives in to the comfort of having him here, in his arms, close enough to touch, to see, to hear.

_Alive. Alive. Breathing, under his arms, alive._

_Jooheon._

 

 

Jooheon’s still shaking, even after Gunhee gave him the sweater he was using, and he can barely walk without tripping on his own feet from the numbness in his legs. Gunhee has an arm around his shoulders, keeping him standing while gently rubbing his back, head still pressed on the other’s hair. Hyunwoo watches them quietly for more one minute or so before approaching, and Jooheon immediately tenses up, giving him a wary glance. Gunhee instinctively brings him closer, trying to pass the other some confidence. Hyunwoo notices and doesn’t try to make any other movement towards them.

“Is everything alright?” he asks gently, eyes flicking from one to another. “Do you – do you need another sweater?”

“Yes.” Gunhee answers before Jooheon even has the chance to open his mouth. “He’s cold as hell. Can you borrow Hoseok’s gloves, please? I – his hands – they’re –”

“I’m fine.” Jooheon interrupts, and his eyes are wide, almost scared. “Really. I’m – I’m okay.”

 _He’s not._ Gunhee swallows the lump in his throat and rubs his eyes with the back of one hand, trying too hard to stop the tears that threaten to start falling once again. _Jooheon’s not okay._ He’s cold, he’s shaking, his lips are pratically dried of color. Gunhee wants to cry so hard that it’s _painful_ to try and stop it, his chest hurts, and he needs to close his eyes for a moment to control himself. Jooheon doesn’t notice it, but Hyunwoo does, his eyebrows furrowed together in worry.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he tries again, fully aware of how Jooheon seems to shrink down in fear at the sound of his voice. “To call someone? I’m sure we can find a place to –”

“I don’t have a cellphone with me.” the younger half tells, half mumbles, and his eyes are focused on his own hands clutching at Gunhee’s clothes, not seeming to really notice how he interrupts Hyunwoo mid-phrase. “And I don’t – I don’t think anyone will be awake right now.”

Gunhee runs his hands through Jooheon’s hair, careful not to startle him, softly caressing the dark locks. He wants to hug him and hold him and never let go ― but he said he wouldn’t do anything, he’s already doing too much, and he doesn’t want to force the other to do something he doesn’t want to just because Gunhee can’t control himself. He licks his lips tentatively, trying to gather the courage to talk again, scared about the possibility of messing things up.

“We could go to a coffee shop or something.” he tries, rubbing Jooheon’s back soothingly. “Just until you can call someone? I can lend you my phone.”

 _I don’t want to leave you alone now. I don’t want to leave you alone ever again._ The plea is so clear in his voice that it’s almost embarassing, and, if he didn’t care so much ― to the point where the feeling’s choking him up and making it hard to breath ―, Gunhee would probably feel ashamed about it. Hyunwoo’s features soften, understanding in a way that only he is capable of, and Jooheon takes his time to answer, seeming to consider his options before anything else.

“Coffee sounds good to me.” he finally says, after a few minutes of dreading the words. “I just – my – my legs feel funny.”

It seems like he wants to talk something more, but chooses not to. Gunhee hols him tighter, nuzzles against his hair, hums quietly to him, and doesn’t let go until Jooheon sighs, shoulders dropping, reciprocating the gest and hiding his face against Gunhee’s collarbones.

“You can lean on me.” Gunhee murmurs as someone who tells a secret, who confesses something that no one else can hear. “I can help you. We’re not going far, I promise.”

Jooheon’s fingers curl more fiercely around Gunhee’s shoulders when he nods, but he doesn’t say anything else. Hyunwoo watches them for a moment, and his eyes basically scream how much he wants to approach and help, his lips pressed together in a thin line, but it only takes Gunhee a shake of his head for him to know that it’s better not to do anything. He gives the younger a look ― the one that usually means _‘we’ll talk about that later, okay?’_ ― before slowly turning and walking towards his boyfriend and Hoseok. Gunhee looks at them, at how Minhyuk immediately throws his arms around Hyunwoo’s neck, hugging him like his life depends on it, while Hoseok starts talking.

He doesn’t know how he’s feeling. He doesn’t know how he shoud feel. His heart’s still hammering inside his ribcage, his eyes are still burning with unshed tears and he knows ― he _knows_ ― he’s just a step away from breaking down and spilling his guts out in words; and, well, he’s sure that this is not what he should be doing right now. He’ll have a lot of time to do it later, because his priority is Jooheon.

“Do you really want to go?”

“... Yeah. Yeah, I – I want to.”

Gunhee doesn’t believe that one bit, but it’s not like he’s going to complain. He nods and runs his fingers through Jooheon’s hair once more, trying to make his own hands stop shaking. The other’s still tense, his body trembling slightly, and he doesn’t know how to help it. Part of him hopes it’s just for the cold, but Gunhee knows better than to hope.

“Okay.” he says, quietly, and the wind blows onto his face, making him shiver. “Okay, I – I’ll help you, then.”

Jooheon doesn’t answer him, but he _does_ start shaking more visibly when Gunhee lets go of him to wrap an arm around his waist, their bodies pressed side to side, their hips basically glued together. He has an arm around Gunhee’s neck, his hand resting on the boy’s shoulder, his fingers curled up around the cloth.

And Gunhee wants to ask him what’s wrong. Gunhee wants to ask him a million things ― why he was on the bridge, why he’s out at this hour in the night, where he’s been during all these years ―, but, deep down, he knows it’s not time to do any of it. If Jooheon wanted to talk, he could’ve done it before, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

The hand on his shoulder still has blue fingertips, knuckles white by the force Jooheon’s using to hold him while they take slow steps, and, even then, Gunhee can only focus on the few words exposed on the pale wrist, the ones he’s able to see. And it’s not hard to guess what’s written there, what’s the entire sentence.

He still doesn’t know if he wants to cry more than he wants to hold him forever and never ever let go. Maybe he wants both.

_He definitely wants both._

 

 

The shop is quiet and, surprisingly, comfortable. It’s warm, too, and Gunhee considers it a bonus, because, as soon as they step inside, Jooheon’s shaking so much that it almost seems like he’s starting to enter in shock, his eyes blown wide, pupils dilated, lips losing their color. Hoseok rushes Gunhee to one of the stuffed seats at the window’s side, holding one of Jooheon’s elbows to help him to sit before his legs give in. He has this worried frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressed together in a thin line, and, as soon as Jooheon slumps on the seat, he takes off his scarf to put around the boy’s neck, gentle but fast, not leaving room for arguments. Minhyuk offers his scarf, too, and Hyunwoo gives in his coat, and, before Jooheon knows, he’s already wrapped up under three new layers of clothes, sleeves pushed until they cover his hands entirely, scarfs surrounding his neck, covering his mouth and ears, and Gunhee sitting at his side.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Hoseok gives them a knowing look when Jooheon curls around himself, arms pressed against his chest while he rubs his hands together in an attempt to warm them up. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Gunhee thinks that it’s a weird turn of things. Barely an hour before he was complaining about going out at ungodly hours of day just to follow his best friend in his soulmate-induced crazyness, and now here he is: past one in the morning, in the middle of nowhere, trying not to let his own soulmate freeze to death.

Life has a sick sense of humor, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“You should call Changkyun.” he stares briefly at Hyunwoo, and, noticing how confused the other seems, Gunhee quickly adds: “He’s probably worried. It’s still his birthday. You know how he is.”

Hyunwoo does. He’s just being the overprotective boy he always turns into when the situation lets him.

“I don’t think –”

“You should call.” Minhyuk interrupts, and gives him a soft smile right after. “Don’t worry. We’re not going anywhere.”

Hyunwoo sighs, but doesn’t try to argue ― at this point, he knows better than try and discuss anything with his boyfriend, because Minhyuk _always_ gets what he wants. He watches them for another second or so before nodding and slowly moving away from the table. The movement makes Jooheon look up, half startled and half wary, his body tensing up again. Gunhee immediately takes one of the boy’s hands between his ― more out of instinct than anything ―, receiving a confused glare. He doesn’t feel like talking, though, so he just rubs Jooheon’s hand, gently trying to give him some warmth.

“Today’s his soulmate’s birthday.” Minhyuk explains once he notices Gunhee’s not about to answer, and Jooheon’s eyes flicker towards him with interest. “That’s why – uh, that’s why we were in the bridge.”

Jooheon blinks. If he thinks it’s strange to call someone at one in the morning, in a bridge of all places, he doesn’t ask and doesn’t tell. Gunhee finds it strangely endearing, pressing his cheek against the other’s shoulder and sighing deeply. His head feels heavy and his chest’s still hurting, and, somehow, he knows it’s not only _him._ When the panic stricked, he thought it was just his paranoid mind making things up, but, right now, he’s starting to doubt it. The pressure inside his ribcage and lungs it’s almost painful enough to make him want to crawl out of his skin.

“You alright?” he asks Jooheon, though it’s a stupid question ― but it eases the pain, so it can’t be that bad. He nuzzles softly against the boy’s shoulder, careful not to get too close and end up making him feel uncomfortable.

Jooheon doesn’t answer ― probably because his throat hurts like hell, if the burn on Gunhee’s is anything to go by ―, but he moves his head until he’s resting his cheek against Gunhee’s hair, breathing deeply. It’s awkward, not at all okay, and the silence certainly doesn’t help, but Gunhee never felt more at peace. Part of him wants to keep talking, even if Jooheon won’t answer him anymore; the other part (the bigger part) just wants to cuddle and sleep. And he’s almost starting to doze off against the boy ― comfortably slumped on his side, still rubbing Jooheon’s hand between his ― when Hoseok gets back with their drinks.

“I didn’t know what you like, so I got both coffee and tea.” he offers Jooheon a warm smile. “You can give the one you don’t want to Gun.”

“Hey!” Gunhee protests, but it’s not a heartedly complaint, and he only receives a sly grin as response to it. “Remember me again, why do I hang out with you?”

“Because you love me, that’s why.”

Jooheon’s watching them with huge, confused eyes, and something with his total lack of reaction makes Gunhee’s heart ache ― not because the other was supposed to get upset at Hoseok’s comment, but because he doesn’t know what’s going through his mind, he’s worried about it. Minhyuk elbows Hoseok on the side, not exactly roughly, but not 100% playfully either.

“Stop messing around, Hoseok. You already has an ego big enough as it is, you don’t need Gunhee telling you that.”

Hoseok smiles his signature smile and poses dramatically, running a hand through his hair to make a ‘stylish mess’ ― as he himself already said before ― and stuffing his chest proudly.

“I’m fucking _awesome,_ okay? Thank you very much.”

After more than a year being friends with Hoseok, Gunhee’s pretty much used to hear the guy talking like that ― the apparent overconfidence and the ‘bad boy’ vibe hiding a complete soft-hearted dork who still cries when watching children’s movies ―, so he only smiles and shakes his head. Jooheon, however, it’s not ― he _giggles,_ his shoulders shaking slightly, and Gunhee immediately stares, awed with the sound. Minhyuk’s eyes flicker towards them for a moment, surprise showing off on his face. Hoseok’s the only one that doesn’t even react, mantaining the pose for a few more seconds before breaking into a bright smile.

“Anyway, aren’t you guys going to drink? And where’s Shownu?”

“We told him to call Changkyun.” Minhyuk fastly recovers from his moment of surprise, straightening his shoulders and looking out for his boyfriend. “He should be coming at any moment.”

“Oh, don’t count on that.” Hoseok discreetely pushes the cups closer to both Gunhee and Jooheon, his eyes not even moving towards them. “He’ll probably ramble a lot and Changkyun will start talking and won’t shut up anymore, and then Hyunwoo’ll be too far over the moon to make him stop. You know how much he loves that boy.”

Minhyuk smiles, and Jooheon watches them quietly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Only when Hoseok keeps talking is that Gunhee notices what he’s doing ― only then he notices that, no, the older’s not just being his random self, _he’s trying to make everyone comfortable without letting things even more strange._ It ends the awkward silence and it gives Gunhee the chance to start a conversation with Jooheon without making the other self-conscious about being the only one talking. He can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, gently holding the boy’s hand and putting it on the table.

Jooheon’s head immediately snaps at him. Gunhee tries to give him a reassuring smile, though his hands feel a bit numb and his stomach seems full of butterflies.

“You should drink.” he says, and his fingers trace the lines of Jooheon’s hands on the sleeves. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Jooheon looks at the cups for a moment before staring back at Gunhee.

“Which one do you want?”

“Any.” Gunhee flashes him a smile. It's a lie ― he doesn't like tea one bit ―, but he's not about to tell the other that. Jooheon's already uncomfortable enough as it is, and Gunhee doesn't want to make things worse. "Like, really. You can choose, I don't mind."

"Oh." Jooheon's features ― what Gunhee can see of them, at least ― soften a bit. "Okay."

Gunhee wants to hug him, to cry on him, to cuddle him, and he doesn't even know how to start explaining that. Jooheon quietly pushes down the scarf that covers his mouth before reaching one of the cups and carefully taking one sip. Gunhee watches him fondly for a moment before doing the same. The hot tea in his mouth is cringe-worthy, but he swallows it without any complaint, and is halfway done with the drink when Hyunwoo gets back, smiling so hard that his eyes crinckle at the corners.

"Sorry, I lost my track of time."

"We noticed it." Hoseok grins at him, slipping out of his seat to let the older sit at his boyfriend's side, ignoring how Minhyuk rolls his eyes and Gunhee chuckles against his cup of tea. "How's Kyunnie? Is he still doing rap? And his cat? I remember when that little shit was still just a tiny and cute ball of fur."

"He's good." Hyunwoo snuggles against Minhyuk, wrapping an arm around the blond's shoulders to bring him closer. "Thanked you guys and said hi. And, yes, he's still doing rap ― he was writing when I called. And don't talk like that about Joy, she's great!"

Hoseok scoffs and looks at Jooheon, pointing accusatory towards the older.

"Don't trust a word he says, kid. That cat is basically Satan reincarnated and waiting to put his claws on you. Just, you know, a lot cuter and with immense eyes."

Jooheon smiles a bit insecurily ― if Hoseok notices, he doesn't push the subject. Gunhee rubs Jooheon's hand comfortingly, and the boy takes another sip of his coffee.

"Stop harassing my boyfriend, you huge dork." Minhyuk hugs Hyunwoo a bit dramatically, and Gunhee can swear the older's cheeks are starting to get tainted red. "Joy's an angel."

Hoseok snorts.

"Her teeth tell otherwise, sunshine boy, her teeth tell otherwise."

At any other time, Gunhee would've probably be joining the talk, bickering and teasing Hyunwoo with Hoseok ― mostly because it's funny, and not because he minds about the way the oldest of them behaves about his soulmate; truth be told: at this point, they all love Changkyun and would do pretty much anything for the boy ―, but not today. Today, he's satisfied with staying quiet, snuggled up against Jooheon's side, noticing how, slowly, too slowly, color starts to get back to his neck and ears, his body shaking just slightly, his eyes huge with confusion.

Gunhee decides to explain a little bit, because, as much as he thinks that his 'lost' face is kind of cute, he wants to talk to him, he wants to have the chance of being known by him, of telling him things and maybe ― just maybe ― be trusted enough to have the chance to hear him back.

"Hyunwoo's soulmate doesn't live here." he explains quietly, and Jooheon turns to look at him when Hyunwoo mutters something about how 'Joy's just misunderstood' and Hoseok keeps complaining about the cat. "He and Minhyuk are planning on going to the USA until the end of the year to see him, and Hoseok's coaxing them into letting him go too because he wants to pet Joy since he saw that cat for the first time."

Gunhee doesn't say anything about himself, because he doesn't think there's anything to tell. He can't afford the trip, and all his savings are sent to his mother's house to help her and his grandmother; he _does_ love his friends a lot and truly believes it would be awesome to go out with them, but he doesn't have enough money and that's it. There's no big deal and no reason to mourn over things he can't change; he'll only work harder, maybe find a better job, try again the next time.

"His soulmate?" Jooheon furrows his eyebrows together, and Gunhee _refuses_ to believe that it's by prejudice. His hopes are reached when his soulmate moves his head discretely towards the other three, just when Hoseok’s stubbornly tugging at Hyunwoo’s shirt, promising he’ll behave, and Minhyuk’s smiling fondly at the scene. “I thought they were, like… Uh, together?”

Gunhee almost chokes on his tea. He coughs, receives a worried glance from Hyunwoo, but shakes his head, silently asking not to be payed attention to. Jooheon seems taken back by his reaction, freeing his hand from Gunhee’s grip to clutch on his cup and bring it closer to his chest, as if to get away from the other’s hold. Gunhee swallows the tea and ignores the burning in the back of his throat, reaching Jooheon’s elbow and trying to be as gentle as possible.

“Hyunwoo and Minhyuk are dating.” he explains, and Jooheon’s features soften once again. “Hoseok’s just the third wheel. Or, you know, fourth, since I know them for much longer.”

Jooheon blinks and looks at the others for a long time ― until Hoseok’s complained enough to get Minhyuk on his side, and both of them are pressuring Hyunwoo into carrying him to the trip to Changkyun’s house. Gunhee finds it kind of funny, because all of them know that Hyunwoo’s refusing it just to keep Hoseok whining about the cat ― because he’d _never_ forbid any of them from meeting his soulmate personally ―, but he knows that there’s something wrong when Jooheon’s face changes completely and he suddenly puts down the coffee, stepping out of the seat and away from them.

Gunhee doesn’t think before reaching him, and the table falls unusually quiet at that. He can feel the other’s fingers trembling and it scares him.

“Where –”

“Let me go.” Jooheon’s voice comes close to a plea, his eyes huge, his other hand shooting up to free himself from Gunhee, who immediately lets him go, and Jooheon stumbles back.

“What’s wrong?” Gunhee’s confused, he’s scared, he wants to know what’s going on, what he did wrong. “Jooheon –”

“Don’t.” Jooheon’s eyes are honest, showing nothing but raw emotion. “I’m not – I gotta go.”

The way he stumbles with his words pains Gunhee ― not because Jooheon wants to go away, but because he’s scared, as if any of them would force him to stay. The other fumbles with the scarfs around his neck and, when Hoseok tentatively reaches towards him to help, the gesture makes the younger take a step back, even more fierce in his mission, his cheeks losing all their color again. Hoseok’s eyes get filled with guilt.

“You can stay with them.” he offers, his tone apologizing, not trying to approach the other  anymore. “We don’t –”

“I don’t want it.” Jooheon almost knocks the drinks over when he puts the extra layers of clothes on the table. “I don’t – I don’t want any of it.”

“Let me walk you home.” Gunhee stands, glancing over at Hyunwoo in despair ― trying to ask what the fuck is going on, what he needs to do to fix that ―, but the sentence only seems to make Jooheon more pale. “Or  – or call a cab, I don’t know, just –”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” Jooheon takes another step back, his eyes flicking towards the four of them viciously, as if he’s afraid one of them will jump on him. “I don’t care who do you think you are, you can’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m not – I’m not trying to tell you what to do.” Gunhee chokes up on his words and, almost instinctively ― without thinking straight ― reaches towards him. “Please, Jooheon, I –”

“Get away from me!”

The exclamation finally calls the attention of the girl in the counter, and she looks up from her phone with a confused face. Gunhee stops immediately, not because he’s being watched, but because the pain that rips through his chest is enough to have him doubling over, gasping for air. He hears his friends’ worried ‘Gun!’ and feels three pairs of hands immediately reaching him, steading him, but he can’t take his eyes off Jooheon, who clutches the place in his chest where his heart’s placed. His eyes are rimmed with tears, his lips trembling, and his fingers curl around his own hoodie until his knuckles are white.

“Get away from me.” he says, again, but there’s no real bite in his words, just raw, desperate pain. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t – don’t search for me.”

 _Don’t leave me,_ is what Gunhee wants to plead, but the words get stuck in his throat because it’s hard to breath, it’s hard to focus. _Please. Don’t go away. I don’t want yo lose you again. Please._ But Jooheon’s eyes show pain, unforgiveness, something that Gunhee doesn’t have words for ― and his whole world’s crumbling down to ashes.

“I’m sorry, Gun.”

And then Jooheon’s gone, stepping away and away, and running to the world out there, without even glancing back, not at all conscious of the heart he just broke. Gunhee’s legs give in, and, though Hyunwoo holds him, he feels like falling ― _he feels_ _like no one’s there to catch him_.

He clutches at his best friend’s shirt, shaking, and cries.

_When will it ever stop?_

 

 

Gunhee doesn’t talk about it when they leave him home. His eyes are still burning, his chest feels too full, his hands didn’t stop shaking since he let go of Hyunwoo. He just wants to sleep, he wants to forget, he wants to pretend it never happened ― because, maybe if he tries hard enough, maybe if he wishes with enough will, maybe if he keeps hoping, it’ll all be just a bad dream, just a misunderstanding, just a bad moment, and he’ll try again the next time and the next time and all the times after that until it works, until it doesn’t feel wrong anymore, until he can fix things up.

If he loses hope, he loses everything, and Gunhee doesn’t think he can take it anymore.

“Do you want us to stay?” Minhyuk asks, softly, so softly, eyebrows furrowed in worry, and he seems so honestly concerned it’s _painful_ to see.

Gunhee looks at him, feeling numb, and his eyes flicker towards Hyunwoo’s hand on the blond’s, on the way their fingers interwine, how tight they hold each other ― with so much care and hope and _love._

“Yeah.” he says, voice scratching his throat, tone a bit rougher by crying. “Yeah, I –  I’d like that.”

That night, he dreams of sad eyes and dark curly hair and a laugh he’s never heard before ― when he wakes up, Hoseok’s arms are around him, his voice soothing, asking him to stay calm, to breath, and Jooheon’s mark words keep haunting him inside.

_(‘my name is song gunhee. my friends call me gun’)_

Gunhee cries harder this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any question/request/desire to talk about anything, you can contact me here, [ tumblr](http://firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin.tumblr.com/), [ twitter](https://twitter.com/notmadetobeheld) or [ curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/notmadetobeheld) \o :3
> 
> 'til next time! \O


	3. a slow dying wisdom melting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The petals are of a palid pink, with small fuchsia dots splattered all around them, and the pride Gunhee feels only can’t be compared to how _wonderstruck_ he is right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaaay here I am keeping my habit of being late with updates (」°ロ°)」
> 
> what can I say, I'm sorry? my muse doesn't always work the way I want it to work ಠ_ಠ it's not even that I don't know what to write, I know exactly what I want to write and how, but most of the time I don't have the will to do so. ~~but I'm working on it the best way I can~~
> 
> Hope you can forgive me for it (◕‿◕)♡  
> Enjoooy ~o3o~
> 
> WARNING: depression symptoms and details may be triggering to some of you. Please, be careful.

The morning after isn’t any better.

Gunhee wakes up feeling a little lost. His head’s pounding miserably and his eyes feel like burning, eyelids heavy and irritated. He frowns a bit, rubbing his face and trying to free himself from the arms that surround his middle. When he finally manages to sit, Gunhee looks around, sleepy and confused as to why his living room is a complete mess. The couch was pushed aside, giving space for pillows he didn’t even know he had and too many blankets. Hyunwoo and Minhyuk are piled up together at a side, Minhyuk’s head buried on the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, his body surrounded by Hyunwoo’s protective arms. The younger doesn’t remember asking them to stay last night, and he gets even more confused when he looks at his side and finds Hoseok all curled up, arms extended as if to reach him, sleeping peacefully. Gunhee frowns, confused, and is ready to call the other when he notices something with the corner of his eyes.

The ink on his wrist ― his soulmate mark ― is pitch black instead of the dull grey that it used to be.

And it hits him like a truck.

Changkyun’s birthday. The boy in the bridge. The coffee shop.

_ Jooheon. _

Gunhee’s breath gets caught in his throat, his eyes warming up all of a sudden, a choked out sob scaping through his lips. He didn’t know something could hurt that much, not until pain rips through his guts and his chest, his lungs feeling like there’s something squeezing them with enough force to steal all his oxygen and forbid him from functioning properly. Gunhee brings his legs closer to his chest, hiding his face between his knees and trying to take deep, calm breathes, trying to soothe his own nerves.

It doesn’t work.

His breath is ragged, his sobs loud and high-pitched, and everything seems to hurt. From head to toe, Gunhee feels like  _ dying. _ His fingers are numb by how hard he clutches at his own knees, a desperate crying mess.

And he  _ knows _ why it hurts, that’s the worst part.  _ He knows. _

There was a time when Gunhee got angry at the world for all the unfair things that happened in his life, and it was the worst one ― and when he noticed that anger wouldn’t get him anywhere, he traded it for hope. Hope to help his mother so she could have time to herself instead of being constantly stressed out about everything; hope to help his grandmother so she could get proper medical care and rest instead of trying to help at home; hope that he’d be able to follow his dreams and get a good job and help his family. Gunhee latched onto hope like it was a lifeline, and even now he’s doing it ― even now, it’s everything that keeps him up at morning, it’s everything that makes him want to try again and again and again, until it’s done right, until he can feel proud and satisfied with what he’s done, with what he’s achieved.

He had big, high hopes about his soulmate, there’s no denying that. He focused on it for so long that he completely  _ forgot _ that life has its own plans, and that they’re always  _ not even close _ to what he expects. His mark wasn’t what he was expecting ― damn, his  _ whole life _ wasn’t what he was expecting ―, and Gunhee thought that at least with his soulmate things could be different. He thought he had a chance.

And then Jooheon came and he got not only  _ rejected,  _ but also completely left behind, and Gunhee never felt so  _ worthless _ in his entire life.

Logically, he knows it’s not Jooheon’s fault.  _ It’s not. _ The other didn’t owe him anything, never promised him anything, and Gunhee’s well aware of that fact. He just wishes that things could’ve gone differently, that he could’ve done something to avoid letting Jooheon being hurt or to avoid being hurt by the boy. Gunhee doesn’t think it’s fair, because it’s  _ not. _ He never did anything  _ wrong. _ He was a good son, he tried his best at school, he’s working until his limits now to keep himself and help his family and be supportive to his friends.

He  _ could _ be a good soulmate.

He  _ can _ be a good soulmate ― he  _ knows _ that. Hell, Jooheon didn’t need to want him as a lover, Gunhee would  _ never _ ask him that ― romantically or sexually or  _ anything _ ―, all Gunhee wanted was a  _ friend. _ He wanted to be able to help him, to be there for him, to share his sadness and happiness and memories,  _ everything. _

He closes his eyes, pressing his mouth agains his clenched fist and trying desperately to fight the tears, the despair that rises up from the pitch of his stomach to his heart and his lungs and his throat and it makes him feel like throwing up. It hurts. It hurts  _ so damn much, _ and he doesn’t know how to stop that pain, he doesn’t know what to do.

Gunhee feels  _ alone. _ Completely,  _ utterly alone. _

He doesn’t know what he should do. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to deal with that. He just  _ doesn’t know,  _ and it terrifies him.

“Gun. Gun,  _ calm down. _ Focus on me.  _ On me, _ Gun.”

It’s Minhyuk’s voice. It snaps him out of his stupor and it makes him realize that he’s being held, a comforting hand rubbing his back gently. His head’s pressed against Minhyuk’s chest, right above his heart. He tries to breath, to answer, to  _ do something, _ and chokes on air. Fear crawls up from his guts, and Gunhee clutches at the older’s shirt like his life depends on it, sobbing non-stop. Minhyuk keeps murmuring things to him in a caring, sweet tone, trying to calm him down like he’d do to a child.

“I’m sorry.” Gunhee sucks in a deep breath, and the tears won’t stop falling, the sobs won’t stop coming. It feels too much. It  _ is _ too much. “I – I didn’t – I didn’t want to –”

“It’s okay.” Minhyuk interrupts him gently, nuzzling against his hair, running his hands up and down on the younger’s back. “It’s okay, I promise. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Gunhee doesn’t believe him ― he doesn’t believe him one bit ―, but the care is welcomed with eagerness. He nuzzles back against Minhyuk’s chest, taking shaky, shallow breaths, forcing himself to focus on something else, on something that’s not the pain that roars wildly inside his ribcage. He focus on the fingers delicately running through his hair, he focus on Minhyuk’s heartbeat, on the warmth that surrounds him whole like a big, fuzzy blanket in a cold october day ― and that’s when Gunhee notices that he is, indeed, surrounded with a blanket.

He looks up in confusion to find both Hyunwoo and Hoseok watching him with sad, sorrowful eyes. His chest tightens, his lungs feel like burning. Gunhee turns away and closes his eyes, shaking non-stop, trying desperately to grab the last piece of control that he still has. He’s not a kid anymore. Crying won’t change what happened, and neither mourn will do. It won’t make him feel better, it won’t make him less hurt or less selfish or less  _ guilty. _

Guilty for what he should’ve done and didn’t ― guilty for what he’d done and regreted later.

Even then, Gunhee doesn’t try to escape when Hoseok approaches and leans against him, resting his face in the space between Gunhee’s shoulders and breathing deeply, wrapping his arms around the younger’s middle and giving him a heartfelt hug. Gunhee doesn’t try to resist or to fight when Hyunwoo comes along, his head against Minhyuk’s shoulder, his hand caressing his best friend’s hair, his arms softly wiping away the younger’s tears.

Gunhee feels overwhelmed all over again. It’s a choked up feeling frowing all the way up from the pitch of his stomach to his throat, making him slump against Minhyuk’s embrace, clutching fiercely at the older’s shirt. When he gives in to the feelings building up inside his body and starts sobbing even more desperately than before, Hyunwoo starts talking.

He can’t quite understand what the older’s telling him ― and he soon figures out that it doesn’t make much difference, because Hoseok starts mumbling against his back, too, his breath warm, his voice soothing, gentle. Hyunwoo’s voice is calm, caring; when Minhyuk decides to follow the other two, he sounds warm, sweet. It makes Gunhee’s nerves start to get numb, his eyelids heavy, the ache inside his chest bottled up and slowly carried away but the exhaustion that sweeps onto his bones and curls around his mind.

Gunhee’s lulled to sleep under the careful watch of his closest friends, too full of worries and too empty of anything else.

*

It doesn’t get better on the next day.

Or the third. Or the fourth.

After two weeks, Gunhee starts thinking that it’ll never change ― the pain, the despair, all of it won’t ever change.

After two months, he’s sure of that.

(He just gets better at hiding it.)

*

Gunhee’s mother notices there’s something wrong as soon as he steps inside the house, her eyebrows furrowing together as she wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. He’s been feeling so tired, so tense on the last weeks that he barely notices when he sighs deeply, shoulders dropping, his arms wrapping around her immediately. She rubs his back gently, Gunhee shudders under the touch.

It’s been a long time since he felt so safe, so secure, and Gunhee holds onto the feeling like his life depends on it. If she finds it strange or anything of sorts, she doesn’t pry off, she doesn’t try to make him talk or share what’s making him so troubled ― years dealing with his teenage angst teached her that Gunhee always,  _ always _ ends up coming to her for comfort and to share things when he’s ready. She just needs to wait and reassure him she’ll always be here to listen when he needs.

“Hey, dear.” she doesn’t let go off him, choosing to caress his hair instead, fingers delicately untying the knots on the dark locks. “You haven’t been showing up lately. Is everything okay?”

If she was any other person, Gunhee would’ve shrugged it off, he would’ve said it’s nothing and tried to change the subject. But it’s not. She’s not ‘any other person’, she’s his  _ mother, _ and Gunhee won’t ever lie to her. He may not be ready to talk about it yet ― he doesn’t think he’ll ever be ―, but he’s not about to lie to her.

“Work’s been hard on me.” he says, instead, and it’s not a lie. Work’s been hell on the last months, and he’s been constantly lectured about not doing his job right. Gunhee’s been worried about being fired, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to find another job so fast, and he doesn’t want to see his mother working herself sick for their family again. “I’m just tired.”

If she believes him or not, she doesn’t show at all, only nodding comprehensively and pressing a soft kiss at the top of his head. Gunhee feels like a child all over again, and he doesn’t really think that’s something good. He closes his eyes and savours the moment a bit more before finally letting her go, smiling a bit weakly at her.

“Don’t worry, mom.” he doesn’t want her to worry anymore ― not about him, not about  _ anything. _ “It’ll get better.”

Eventually. He hopes so. He can’t stay hurting forever ― he just _ can’t. _ It’s not even about the soulmate thing anymore, though it  _ does _ make him feel worse in the bigger picture. He just wants all of this to stop, all this pain to end.

“You know you can tell me if there’s anything wrong, don’t you?” his mother gives him a comprehensive, lovingly look. “I’ll always be here to listen, and I’ll help you if I can.”

“I know.” he tries a smile of his own, and, even though his heart’s still heavy and his shoulders are still tense, it’s the first time that Gunhee feels as if he’s  _ really _ smiling. As if he  _ means _ it. “I know, mom. It’s okay.”

It’s not, but he’ll deal with that.

He  _ needs _ to deal with that.

*

Dealing with his own problems all by himself, in the end, proves to be quite a challenge. Gunhee’s trying ― he really is ―, but things just don’t seem to work out for him. His job just doesn’t have the same appeal as it did before; Gunhee never thought there would be a day when he’d come to dislike the place he works on so much. Sure, work with music,  _ produce _ music is possibly the greatest thing to ever happen to him. The problem is: Gunhee never gets around to work on his own music.  _ Never. _ He didn’t mind at first, he thought that if he worked hard enough he’d get there, he’d be able to get there.

Oh, well ― he didn’t. And now, as he’s being scolded on a daily basis about not doing anything right and having to pay more attention to what he does (even though he  _ always _ gives his all in  _ everything _ he does), Gunhee feels drained. As if  _ that _ wasn’t bad enough, there’s also the fact that he never manages to get enough sleep at night, and therefore started looking like a walking dead.

Gunhee’s always been the friendly type of guy. Sure, not enough to be a social butterfly ― but at least enough to be considered somewhat a popular guy in almost every place he put his feet on. That didn’t change with time, mostly because he’s a ‘person’ kind of guy. Gunhee likes to go out with his friends, he likes to go out with his co-workers. But even then, that doesn’t mean he likes to do it  _ all the time,  _ and people tend to forget that.

“So, what do you think?”

Gunhee lifts his eyes from the paper sheets he’s been running through for the last two hours or so, and is immediately met with Jisoo’s hopeful gaze. It’s maybe the third or fourth time in less than two weeks that she and a few other co-workers invite him to something, and he still doesn’t know how to decline it without sounding like a jerk. Gunhee sighs and rubs the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable and a bit embarassed.

“I really need to finish this paperwork.” he gives her the most apologetic smile he manages. “Maybe next time?”

Jisoo’s enthusiasm visibly deflates, and she gives him a sad look before turning her gaze to the papers he still needs to avaliate.

“You’ve been working really hard these last days.” she says, a bit cautiously, as if afraid to offend him. “All this stress won’t do you any good, Gun. You should take a break.”

Gunhee wants to tell her that he knows ― because he does. He wants to tell her that he doesn’t care ― because it’s the truth. But something about the worry in her eyes, something about the anguished way shearches her eyebrows makes him think of his mother. And, to be quite honest, he’s getting sick of making people worry, be it about him, be it about his well-being. Gunhee’s not ― he’s not  _ fine. _ He’s not  _ okay. _ But he doesn’t want anyone to worry either. He doesn’t want to take anyone’s time anymore.

“So I’ve been told.” he pushes another paper, fumbling with the borders and trying not to cut his fingers like he did the last time. “But, uh, next time? I’ll make time to go.”

“Promise?”

His thoughts come to a screeching halt. He stops dead in tracks. Blinks. Looks up to find Jisoo almost as shocked as he is right now. His mind goes blank.

“Uh.” he answers, very coherently.

“I mean.” Jisoo looks away, blush creeping onto her cheeks. “We miss you, Gun. Me and – and the others. Taehyun says it’s not fun to hang out with people who don’t have good jokes to share.”

A sinking feeling installs itself on Gunhee’s stomach. Not the good kind ― it’s more like someone’s hit him in the guts. He knows what that’s supposed to mean and he doesn’t ― he doesn’t feel good about it.

“Sure.” he mumbles, and turns his back on her, trying not to let too clear that he’s stupidly tense and uncomfortable with the situation. “I’ll go with you guys the next time.”

Gunhee doesn’t promise anything. He  _ can’t _ promise anything. It wouldn’t be fair ― not with himself, and even less with her. Gunhee’s not good at dealing with things like that, and Jisoo dosn’t deserve this kind of shit on her life. It’s a win-win situation if he gets the hell out of here before they can start to get strange with each other.

“Oh.” Jisoo says, and from his spot fumbling on the lowest drawer Gunhee still can hear her taking a step back and sighing heavily. “Okay. I – uh, I understand. Thank you for considering it, though.”

He doesn’t have any time to think of something nice to say ― to end the tension that suddenly filled the entire room ― before she leaves, and part of him is grateful for it. Gunhee doesn’t think she understands. He doesn’t think anyone does. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, ignoring the suffocating feeling building up inside his ribcage.

It’s not like it matters, in the end.

Gunhee still has work to do, and keep sulking around won’t change that one bit ― might as well get used to it.

  
  


When he finally leaves, pratically an hour later, it’s a bit cold out there. Gunhee almost regrets staying up until so late on work, even if for a fair reason, because he doesn’t think that something like that will matter in the long run. His boss isn’t satisfied with him anymore, and Gunhee has basically no idea how to improve. He bites his lips and starts walking, heading home and trying to think of a way to fix that.

Getting back to live with his mother and grandmother is not an option, not because he wouldn’t like that, but because none of them is stupid and the action would show just how much he fucked up, and he doesn’t think his mother deserves even more trouble to deal with. Maybe he should start searching for a roommate ― there  _ is _ an empty room on his apartment, after all. Maybe he should be getting ready to be fired; his savings may last long enough for Gunhee to start on another work, or find two or hree part-time jobs. Maybe he should try and find something to do during the weekends, too. It sounds like a plan to him ― not a good one, but a plan nonetheless, and Gunhee decides not to dwell on it too much.

He sighs and looks up at the sky, eyes lingering on the stars for a bit before a loud beeping sound interrupts him. Gunhee searches the phone in his pockets, and the notification on the screen tells him there’s a new message on the kakao group chat. He swipes the phone open, and it’s from Hyunwoo.

**son_hwoo:** hey, gun, are u home?

**94gun:** just got out of work

It takes a few minutes for the older to answer him back, and Gunhee tries to keep an eye out for anything suspect happening around him, because he totally  _ can’t _ afford being robbed right now; things are already bad enough as it is.

**son_hwoo:** oh

**son_hwoo:** well, min and i will make movie night today

**son_hwoo:** do u wanna come over?

Gunhee stops dead in his tracks. Stares at the screen for a moment. It’s not  _ unusual _ for Minhyuk and Hyunwoo to do the infamous movie night ― and invite him over, just like they also do with Hoseok ―, but… He doesn’t know. A couple months ago, the possibility of passing at any of his friends’ home would’ve made him giddy and excited for the outcome ― Hoseok cries at children’s movies, Minhyuk doesn’t like the scary ones, and they created a game delegating that whoever can find a movie that makes Hyunwoo  _ stop being stoic _ will receive free meals from the other two for a whole month ―, but now he just feels a bit uncomfortable.

It’s not even because he doesn’t  _ want _ to. He  _ does. _ Kind of. The idea makes him ache inside, his heart squeezed by a feeling he still doesn’t know what it means, and he takes in a long, shaky breath before typing his answer.

**94gun:** nah, i’m tired

For a moment, Gunhee considers sending a  _ ‘maybe next time?’, _ but Jisoo’s disappointed eyes come to his mind, and he decides it’s better if he doesn’t. Hyunwoo doesn’t insist, sends him a  _ ‘okay, don’t forget to eat’, _ and Gunhee’s glad about it.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if Hyunwoo insisted.

*

It takes some time for Gunhee to understand what’s wrong ― and even more time to  _ admit _ that it’s how he feels.

It starts as a heavy feeling inside his chest. It starts as something bad, that makes him have difficulties breathing and brings a lump to his throat. The first time it happens, he’s with his best friend and Minhyuk ― alone, because Hoseok somehow manage to  _ catch a cold _ in  _ spring _ ―, behind the National Assembly Building, to see the Spring Flower Festival.

Gunhee’s not feeling particularly  _ good, _ but he needs to admit the view is beautiful. Cherry blossoms are in full bloom everywhere, and, when the wind blows, petals and small flowers follow it, getting stuck everywhere ― hair, clothes, bags, cars, another trees. Gunhee watches, amused by how delicate they look, and, for the first time in almost three entire months, his lips turn slightly upwards.

It’s a light feeling spreading inside his body, warm and funny, and it makes him want to try and catch the cherry blossoms. He  _ does _ try to catch it, slowly at first, waiting for the wind to have a chance at grabbing something ― but it doesn’t work. His eyes crinkle at the corners when excitement fills him up inside, and Gunhee gives up on trying to be discreet.

He jumps around for a while, completely forgetting the other people surrounding him, too caught up in the feeling to care about the possibility of someone seeing how childish he looks.

_ Nothing _ can be compared to the feeling of finally catching one of the tiny pink things ― the triumph that swells on his chest has Gunhee giggling in _ absolute joy _ when he feels the soft petals under his fingers. He takes a second to look at the flower, smile in his mouth, eyes glowing with pure excitement.

The petals are of a palid pink, with small fuchsia dots splattered all around them, and the pride Gunhee feels only can’t be compared to how  _ wonderstruck _ he is right now. He turns around, ready to call both Hyunwoo and Minhyuk and show them the cherry blossom, but notices he’s lost them somewhere along the ‘chase cherry blossoms around’ thing. He blinks, the flower safely held, and takes a few steps forward, eyes searching around, before he finally has a look at them.

They’re next to one of the trees, Minhyuk safely tuck against Hyunwoo’s chest, and something about the scene makes Gunhee stop and stare instead of call them. They don’t seem to notice his absence, Hyunwoo’s face leaning to his boyfriend’s, Minhyuk looking up, eyes half-closed, all his posture showing nothing but how relaxed he feels, features softened by care.

Gunhee watches while Hyunwoo wraps his fingers on Minhyuk’s hair and leans in to kiss him, so lost in his own world and bubble of love he barely seems able to see what’s around him. Something inside Gunhee feels ― it doesn’t feel as good as it did before.

And then… Then it hits him.

Gunhee’s smile fades. There’s an insistent tug inside his ribcage. He turns his eyes away from the couple, stares at the cherry blossom in his palm for a moment, caged between his fingers. Gunhee swallows roughly, ignoring the way his heart seems to be squeezed inside his chest, and stops holding it.

The next time the wind blows, the delicate flower escapes from his fingers, and he watches it disappear within the others.

Later, when Hyunwoo asks him if everything’s okay, Gunhee tries his best to smile and say it is ― even though it’s not.

*

He starts avoiding them.

Not only Hyunwoo, not only Minhyuk ― though they  _ are _ the reason why Gunhee started doing it in the first place ―, but also Hoseok. It’s not a conscious act, not at first. Gunhee doesn’t do it  _ thinking _ about doing it, he just ― does.

It’s with small things at first, and the situations they’re put to deal with don’t really help it. Gunhee has to work, he doesn’t have time to go out today; Gunhee’s tired from work, he’ll just go home and sleep the entire night; Gunhee already compromised to pass the weekend with his mother, he can’t go out, maybe next time he remembers not to mark anything? ― and he’ll pass three entire days inside his room, staring at the ceiling or working until ungodly hours and drinking way too much caffeine not to live with constant stomachaches.

It escalates quickly. No, he doesn’t want to go out. No, he doesn’t have any plan for tomorrow night, but he’s not ― he’s  _ not _ going out, Hyunwoo, stop trying to convince him otherwise. Gunhee doesn’t have the will to do so, and he’s not trying to change that.

Hyunwoo’s stubborn, and therefore the only one whom Gunhee avoids at all costs. Hoseok’s not like that, he’s more friendly, less agressive, and he’s more likely to drop the subject if Gunhee keeps quiet for long enough. Minhyuk ― Minhyuk’s a  _ disaster. _

His eyes are hopeful when he stares at Gunhee, hands closed with poorly hidden excitement, shoulders rigid with attention.

“Can you?” he asks, again.

From every place Gunhee could find him ― from  _ anyone _ who he could find ―, it  _ needs _ to be on a supermarket. He doesn’t feel ready to deal with that. Gunhee doesn’t feel ready to deal with him, not now, not ever. Minhyuk’s asking him about a possible meeting, about a movie night, like they used to do, they can even watch Gunhee’s favorite movies and ― and he  _ can’t. _

“I’ll be busy.” the lie slips smoothly through his lips, leaving a sour taste inside his mouth, and Gunhee rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I – uh – I need to –”

“Work?”

Minhyuk’s voice isn’t disappointed, and that’s maybe the worst part of it all. He doesn’t seem disappointed, or like he’s lost his hope, he’s just ― sad. His features are soft and his eyes are inviting, but something about his posture makes Gunhee feels as if he’s just kicked a puppy.

“Yeah.” he says, quietly, and looks away for a moment, trying to ignore how tears well up in his eyes, lips quivering a bit. And then he repeats, weakly: “Work.”

Minhyuk sighs, and his shoulders drop.

“Okay.” he says, softly. “Okay, I – I’ll tell the others. You can – if you change your mind, we – we’ll –”

“Don’t wait for me.” Gunhee interrupts him, swallows roughly. “I’m not going.”

Minhyuk’s eyes sadden.

“Okay.” he repeats, as if it’s really okay, as if it’s nothing, as if he doesn’t  _ know…  _ “It’s okay. See you – see you later, Gun.”

When he leaves, Gunhee feels like crying.

  
  


**son_hwoo:** we need to talk

Gunhee stares at the glowing screen, and his vision starts to blurr. Not now. He can’t do that ―  _ not now. _ He feels tired, and guilty, and stupid. He doesn’t want to talk and he  _ definitely _ doesn’t want to fight.

**94gun:** i’m tired, hyung

**son_hwoo:** you’re hiding, that’s what you’re doing

**94gun:** sorry, battery’s ending and i’m not with the charger

**94gun:** goodnight, hyung

Hyunwoo answers, but Gunhee’s already blocking the screen, and he has no intention of catching the phone again, not today, not tomorrow, not until he feels ready to do so. He swallows down the lump in his throat, closes his eyes and buries his head on the pillow, taking a shallow breath to try and keep himself calm.

Everything’s okay.

Everything will be okay.

It  _ needs _ to be.

(Gunhee doesn’t think it will, but he has no other choice.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO a few things changed. That chapter was going to be a huge ass update, but I was barely half-way through checking my notes (it was 2/10) and it was already more than 5K, and I didn't feel it'd be something good to read because, well. Feelings. So I broke it ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ and the next update will almost surely take place until next week. I'll try my best ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ
> 
> The festival mentioned was found [here](http://english.visitkorea.or.kr/enu/ATR/SI_EN_3_6.jsp?cid=1985915). It's official name is Yeongdeungpo Yeouido Spring Flower Festival.
> 
> Aaand that's it! \o
> 
> Any question/request/desire to talk about anything, you can contact me here, [ tumblr](http://firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin.tumblr.com/), [ twitter](https://twitter.com/notmadetobeheld) or [ curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/notmadetobeheld) :3


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